Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(118)

Once we’re dressed and fed, it just takes me a little longer to get the gumption to leave for my last, planned destination before returning home. This part of my journey probably should have been first on the list, considering that it feels easier to do than where we went yesterday.

As we take the Holland Tunnel into New Jersey, I’m content with this location being the last. I probably would never have gone to my parents’ house if I had done the easier trek first. There’s no one to really see, other than perhaps in passing.

The limo pulls up to the shop a few doors down and I confidently step out. The restaurant sign is still the same as if nothing has changed. Smells rush my nostrils, reminding me of the good memories formed with Martin, Celia, Brittany and Leslie. I lower my head in prayer, hoping that life has been good to Martin and Celia because of the kindness and generosity they had given me and the girls.

“Emma?” a girls voice calls. “Emma? Is that you?”

My head snaps up, expecting a slew of people and cameras rushing toward me. Instead, I’m meet with the prettiest green eyes I’ve only ever seen on an old friend. Shock and disbelief consume me as I seriously consider that I’m hallucinating.

“It is!” she shouts, running toward me. “Oh my God. It is you. Mom, Dad and Leslie will be so happy to see you!” Her arms stretch upward as she hugs me.

My body remains stiff as it tries to catch up to my brain.

“They didn’t believe me when I told them that was you on the tv,” she announces into my ear. “Come on, come on. You have to come inside. It’s too cold out her and everyone will want to see you.” She yanks on my hand and my feet follow with weighted steps.

“Brit . . . Brittany?” my voice mumbles.

“Of course, silly!” she confirms.

I see that Sadie and Joe are close on my heels with Hunter and Taylor not far behind when I look back.

“Mom! Dad! Leslie!” Brittany shouts as she pushes the door open.

“What?” Leslie groans, popping up from behind the counter. “Oh my God!” She bolts around the corner and runs straight for me. “Emma! It’s you!”

“What’s all the fuss, girls?” Celia questions, coming from behind the kitchen door. She stops in her tracks when she sees me. “Marty! Get out here!”

“What is it?” Martin inquires, walking up behind Celia.

“Emma’s back!” Brittany shouts.

Martin and Celia rush across the restaurant. They both put their hands on my cheeks as if they don’t believe that I’m really there. Before I know it, they all surround me with their arms.

“What’s going on?” I mumble, confused.

“Mom and Dad adopted us after the . . .” Leslie begins before Brittany jabs her in her side.

“Ow, that hurt,” Leslie whines.

“I can’t believe that it’s been nine years,” Martin remarks.

“Has it been that long?” Celia questions.

“Yes,” my voice shakes.


“Who’s this?” Leslie asks, squatting and petting Sadie.

“That’s Sadie,” I comment, taking a step back from the group in amazement.

“And, who is he?” Leslie continues.

“Huh?” I return.

“Hello. I’m Joe,” he offers, stepping forward to shake their hands.

“He’s cute. Cuter than Chris,” Leslie remarks.

“Are you her boyfriend?” Brittany explores.

“Girls, that’s not polite and none of your business,” Celia corrects.

“No,” Joe answers with a chuckle. “Emma and I are friends.”

“Please, come in. Take off your coats and sit. I’ll have the cooks prepare us some food and we can sit and chat,” Celia offers, moving as if everyone has agreed. She never waits for anyone to object.

“Who are they?” Brittany asks, gesturing to the men behind Joe and me.

“That’s Taylor and Hunter,” I explain.

“Is one of them your boyfriend?” Leslie peruses.

Laughing, I answer, “No. They’re our bodyguards.”

“Why do you need bodyguards?” Leslie continues.

“For safety,” Joe offers.

The girls nod their acceptance even though their eyes give away that they don’t understand and want to know more.

We sit down in one of the large back booths while Taylor and Hunter stay toward the front of the restaurant. Leslie helps Celia with drinks while Brittany gets place settings and utensils.

“Where did you go?” Brittany breeches. “You know . . . after the last night we saw you.”

I explain enough, including when I met Jared, and the girls seem content when I don’t expand further. Our conversations turn toward how we all ended up in the foster home with Dean and Amber. I share first, wanting to get it out like ripping off a bandaid.

“We were bounced around foster homes since I was three,” Brittany explains. “We don’t remember anything. All we know is that our mom couldn’t take care of us anymore and there was never any mention of our dad.”

I stare at the two girls, perplexed at how different they look. Martin and Celia don’t look like they’ve aged.

“Are you moving back?” Leslie asks.